Hallowe'en

[inanhour]

The Sebastian who enters the bar is dressed in plain black -- for a step.

Then he startles, his clothing completely replaced by a suit of Messaline finery, like he wore once. Mayhap the same suit, even, though logic dictates otherwise.

The whole room is done in finery, mostly of a kind he has not seen, and there's laughter, and plates set out with foods, and --

"I've no stomach for it," Sebastian murmurs. He acquires a wineskin, and goes to explore this outdoors he has heard of.

A few steps out into the mid-afternoon, he catches the scent of the sea. Giving the lake a considered stare, he turns and instead heads to the relative safety of the trees.

Comments

[livinginmyglass]

"Here, brother!" She advances a few more steps. The fog, so sudden and thick, casts the eerie pall over the whole scene that was missing before. "Sebastian? Art gone?"

[inanhour]

He hears her voice, weirdly distorted, and distantly to the right of where he's standing. He looks there, and peers, but sees nothing.

"Stay still! I will find thee," he calls, as carrying as he can manage, and puts a hand out in front of himself as he makes his way towards where he heard her. If she is not yet disappeared, he won't leave her.

[livinginmyglass]

"Here, brother! I am just here." But as she moves forward towards where he was a moment ago, she finds that he is gone. She makes a small circle through the fog, to see if he simply stepped aside, but to no avail. But she was so certain this was where his voice had come from.

[inanhour]

Sebastian is a few dozen feet out when he realizes this was likely a bad idea. He cannot see his feet. He cannot tell if this is where she is though now and then he is certain he hears her -- to the left, to the right, and occasionally behind.

"Viola?" he calls, as he has at regular intervals, this time far more uncertain.

But then there is a noise, again, ahead of him -- and he steps, and trips across a root, and goes crashing down a hill.

[livinginmyglass]

Viola jumps at the sound, but distorted through the trees and the fog, it sounds distinctly like something she should run from, not towards.

So she does.